


Cloudy Waters, Murky Skies

by Emile_is_waiting



Series: Can You Breathe? [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, duh - Freeform, if you came here for fluff then i can only ask w h y
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:15:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25777996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emile_is_waiting/pseuds/Emile_is_waiting
Summary: Thick cotton swirls in his mind.Old thorns tear at his heart.Cords of gold entangle his throat.Gaping wounds drain his love.Or; Philza, Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy meet for the first time.
Relationships: ew - Relationship, i will steal your kneecaps - Relationship
Series: Can You Breathe? [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1835920
Comments: 38
Kudos: 544





	1. i taste you on my lips and i can't get rid of you

**Author's Note:**

> I suggest reading the prologue (Swimming Above Water) before this one to get a better grasp of what’s to be ahead, though it isn’t 100% necessary. 
> 
> Please note that this story is inspired by “A Dream Come True” by the author Brisinger9. This story isn’t a fantasy AU like ADCT but the character relationships are heavily based off of it :)
> 
> Happy reading!

For this chapter there's a trigger warning for a dissociative attack so please read with caution. TWs will be at the start of each chapter.

\-----------------

Phil initially thought this would be an alright house for a change. The last one wasn’t too accommodating and the parents weren’t the most patient in the field by any means, but regardless this new home seemed pretty alright (so far). 

There was a quaint little garden filled with what looked like poppies and daisies in the front yard and the walls were coloured a soothing blue. The whole place looked like a perfect, quintessential home straight out of a magazine.

He wasn’t quite sure why he’d been moved again. He wasn’t quite sure about much of anything lately, Phil just knew that his old fosters despised him for some reason or another and now he was being dropped off here by his social worker and he was expected to be a good ward under a pair of complete strangers.

Seemed easy enough (it didn't). 

He walked through the garden and porch towards the white-coloured door, but before he could even knock, the door flung open to reveal a boy that looked a bit younger than himself, yet was somehow the same height. “Hi!” The boy chirped. “You’re my new brother, right? My name’s Tommy, what’s your's?” 

Philza blinked in surprise before responding to the boy who was apparently to be his new sibling. “H-hello. I’m Philza, can you, um, call your parents out?” Despite his awkwardness, the boy, apparently named Tommy, seemed to light up. He grabbed Phil’s wrist and dragged him through a short hallway into a large, open living room that connected to a dining area and another hallway. 

Continuing to man-handle him, Tommy dragged him towards said dining area where a woman with long brown locks and a man with glasses sat, seemingly waiting for the two of them.

The woman spoke up first. “Welcome, Philza, I hope Tommy hasn’t been too rough with you. My name’s Mary, and this is Liam.” Her smile was kind and serene, but Phil still struggled to pay attention to her words through the haze. What was her name again? 

He was thoroughly lost on what she’d said, and wasn't that a good sign, he was disassociating again in the first five minutes at his new home. Great.

He felt something warm grip his palm before he closed his eyes and dove into a pool of darkness. Did his old fosters tell them about his weird memory thing? He wondered what they would say about Tommy? They never liked young children very much. That’s why they took him in when he was older (it’s why they took him in at all). 

It was like he was floating and being tugged by an invisible force to some other place. (It was probably another person but he couldn't recall who.) Where was he again? He tried his best to recall what he was just doing but it felt like half of his memories were stuffed in a box tucked away under his old bed, far from his reach.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a pair of vivid blue eyes staring straight at him. Blinking furiously to adjust to the lighting, Philza stepped back from Tommy (so that was his name!) and took in his new surroundings. (Tommy was looking at him weirdly, but he was used to that, did it really matter?)

Two twin-sized beds were tucked in the right side of the room. On the left side, a closet was built into part of the wall and a television was perched on a dresser in the corner. 

Turning back towards Tommy (who was still staring at him, which was a bit rude in his opinion,) he asked, “Tommy? Which bed is mine?” 

The boy stared at him for a moment longer before responding. “The green one. The blue one's mine. I already took the dresser so the closet's yours.” Tommy seemed to debate whether to continue talking, but Phil already knew what he wanted to ask. 

"The doctors said I have dissociative disorder. Sometimes I just feel like I'm not really all there in the moment and I forget what's happening a lot. It's pretty random and happens frequently." Tommy's eyes were wide and he seemed to understand what Philza was talking about to some extent at the very least. 

His hands were fidgeting as he tried to conjure back the ability to speak. "Oh! I- uh didn't know about that, sorry mate. Deo, my, uh- older brother, said he'd had a friend with that too. But erm- earlier Mrs Gold was saying that you'll need to do a couple of chores while she and Mr Gold are away. Oh! And you can help yourself to whatever's in the fridge." Tommy took in a deep breath after his mess of words and he smiled shyly at the floor.

"Sorry if I'm a bit annoying, I know I shouldn't talk so much but I kinda get carried away 'cause it's fun to talk to new people, and I forget not everyone likes my rambling." The boy turned his head towards Philza and smiled so bright it could rival the sun. 

"But, welcome home, Phil!"

Maybe this place wasn't going to be so bad. 

\-----------------

In the end, it indeed wasn't as terrible as he had feared. Mrs and Mr Gold (he couldn't remember their real names to save his life) were patient fosters and did their best to make their house his new home (they were rarely around). They both cooked dinner together every other weekend and all four of them would sit at the dining table and eat their fill. Weekdays consisted of him trying to cook whatever recipes he could find online (it was a gamble whether or not the damn meal was edible or not).

If you asked Phil though, Tommy was most certainly the highlight of his new residence. The boy was young, only twelve, and he was full of a sort of radiant life Phil hadn't seen in a long time. 

He constantly demanded attention and Philza acknowledged that anyone else would have been irritated by him, but it was a nice change of pace if he was being honest. Phil was always preoccupied with the boy and he hadn't disassociated with Tommy around after the first day, it was like some sort of bloody fuckin’ miracle. 

The child was a sweetheart, despite what everyone else said, and personally, Philza thought Tommy just wanted validation from the people he loved. With his mother-henning, Tommy rarely complained about being bored or bothered him to play, as he was doing that already.

He had been transferred during the summertime so the two of them would spend mornings lounging around in the living room playing on the Switch connected to the TV. It was everything he'd imagined doing with a little brother.

A month into his stay, they told him and Tommy the news.

“So, well- two new children will be coming here soon. They’ll be staying in the room next to yours. I know both of you are very well-behaved kids but,” Mr Gold paused before continuing, “the two of them might be, well, less than accommodating housemates. See, the older one, Wilbur, is a bit of a troublemaker and the other one, Techno, hasn’t been in the system for very long at all.”

The poor man looked lost on what to say next, so Mrs Gold cut in, “To put it frankly, we aren’t around as much as we’d like to be, so you both will need to help the two adjust before the school year starts.” She looked at them (really just at Phil) imploringly, “Do you think you can handle it?”

Phil gave her a shaky smile. “Seems easy enough.” (It didn't.)


	2. they said it's my best show, i hope you were impressed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much so incredibly much for the overwhelming support, it gives me so much drive and serotonin!
> 
> And reminder that all the mental struggles depicted in this series is based off of my own experiences with them, whether they're my own or one of a family member's. Not everyone shares the same mental health experience, so try keeping an open mind.
> 
> ily and happy reading <3

TW // Implied/Referenced Child Abandonment, Self-Esteem Issues, Panic Attack

It was such a pain, relocating, but in the end, he was doing all parties involved a favour. Wilbur never tried to adjust to any of his fosters' rules, but really it was their fault for even bothering to try in the first place. Him going was a bloody miracle for them. 

Relocating was commonplace with his status as "the crime boy." Wilbur knew no kid in their right mind would befriend him and no adult would want him, so he found moving mind-numbingly tedious rather than nerve-racking.

This time around, relocating was even more of an unnecessary hassle. This stupid kid named Techno was apparently going to be stuck with him for all of his future transfers because he had "issues with older children." Christ.

Techno swung between being eerily quiet and irrationally violent and it was not appreciated. Will had a hard enough time taking care of himself, let alone a whole other kid with anger issues! It was absolutely ridiculous! 

But here they both were anyways, standing in front of a boring blue house like those he'd seen in the telly, suitcases in tow, ready to stay in just another house for a month then leaving. How fun. 

Upon the first meeting, Mr and Mrs Gold were nice enough. They had chatted at the dining table about their rooms and chores for a while and they were as pleasant as fosters got. They ignored Wilbur’s stilted awkwardness and Techno’s dead silence and treated them like a pair of perfectly functioning kids.

Despite their pleasantries and niceties, it did not make him any more comforted about his new "permanent" stay.

To add to his steadily climbing anxiety, he had to meet his new siblings after. One of them was twelve and the other was a bloody fifteen-year-old.l. Mr Gold had hollered for the two boys, Philza and Tommy, and the first fucking thing the youngest did was full-body tackle Wilbur into a hug.

What the hell.

"What the fu-" 

The little blonde gremlin, presumably Tommy, proceeded to spout a paragraph of word vomit Will couldn't catch. 

"Hey, hey you're Wilbur, right? Your hair looks so cool! Is that a guitar too, that looks so bloody awesome! How many songs can you play? Can you play- mhm!"

Before the child could deafen him any further, a hand covered Tommy's mouth and ceased his rambling. 

Looking upwards, Wilbur met the cloudy emerald eyes of his other sibling, Philza. The teen gave a long-suffering sigh before smiling fondly. 

"Hello, Wilbur, I'm Phil. Welcome. Sorry about Tommy, he's excitable, to say the least." Philza stuck his free hand out to Will and he shook it back hesitantly. 

Mrs Gold, who he’d forgotten was there at all, spoke up to Phil. “Honey, why don’t you show Wilbur and Techno their room?”

Tommy, who had broken out of Phil's hold, gasped. "Dude, Techno, your hair is amazing. I wish I could dye m-"

Philza's hand was once again on Tommy's mouth and he offered a handshake to Techno as well. The teen just started at the hand as if it was a feral monster, ready to rip his throat out. 

Phil seemed nonplussed by his reaction and merely lowered his hand back to his side. "Well, you both should start unpacking I suppose. It's just down the hall." 

He began walking down said hall with Tommy in hand and Wilbur stared at the pair before following as well.

What a bunch of weirdos.

\-----------------

After a week at the Golds', Wilbur had come up with a decision. The whole house could be summed up in the words, "eerily quaint."

That was about it.

Literally that was it. 

No extra rules, no punishments, nothing extraordinary. Somehow, the fact it was so boring made it all the more intriguing. 

He did his best to avoid his fosters when they were around, Will couldn't ever be too safe, but even then, Philza seemed to be the substitute parent of the household, doing half the chores and all the cooking. It was a small comfort that someone so young cared enough for them all that much. 

Naturally though, because he was a fuck-up that couldn't take a bloody compliment, he pushed their limits, as he always did. He was only two weeks in, but Wilbur's anxiety threatened to swallow him whole already. How far could he go until the walls snapped and stopped loving him?

Quite far, he soon discovered. It was only after a broken vase, trampled daisy planter, and a very close incident with the Switch and a glass of juice, all done in a matter of days mind you, that he got an intervention. 

By Techno of all people! 

The resident hermit was quick to anger and he seemed thoroughly obsessed with all of the technology in the house. He was glued to the damn devices for hours at a time and rarely ever left their shared bedroom. So this meant that, naturally, after the Close Call he got very, very upset. 

"WILBUR." Oh no. Will had fled the living room in a guilty panic when he saw Techno coming close to use the Switch, but evidently he was still spotted. "WILBUR, WHAT DID YOU DO?"

If he went back to confess his crime, Mary and Liam would no doubt find out what he nearly did and he was sure that the Golds wouldn't be so lax with punishment this time around. Phil was long asleep so he couldn't even go to him for bail.

But. He could run. 

He could take his case he'd yet to unpack and flee, as far as he could, far past the suburbia that boxed him in. He knew some people that could take him in, that would understand. Wilbur could leave before his heart planted itself in the house's foundation, before the thorns pierced his skin and trapped him again and again and again and again and-

"Wilbur?" His brother's deep voice cut through his panic and Will whirled around to look at him. Techno's brown eyes were faintly scrunched in worry and his hand hovered above Will's shoulder, as if he wanted to comfort him.

'I'm fine.' Is what he wanted to say, but what he said came out more like, "I- I'm al- alright. I'm good. It's- it's fine. No need for any worry!"

Techno started at him with a deadpan face and sighed. "You're a terrible liar dude. Plus, we both know what you did Will, you're literally the only other person awake right now besides me." 

Wilbur winced at his bluntness and prepared for one of Techno's iconic bouts of fury, but what he actually got was… Very different.

"I'm not that mad at you y'know."

Huh?

"W- what do you mean?" 

He scanned Will's fearful expression with an odd expression of his own, before breaking into a shiteating grin. "It means I'm not mad, just disappointed." 

Wilbur's brain seemed to of had a civil war in his head, as there was a beat of dead silence after Techno spoke. 

He burst out in a cacophony of wheezing laughs, barely able to breathe. His right brain cackled grimly at the morose humor whilst his left simmered in rage that threatened to bubble, bubble, bubble right past his cast iron walls.

He'd been laughing for what seemed like years and it must have been that long as Techno's smile had long slipped off his face, replaced by a hesitantly wavering smile.

Suddenly recovering from his manic giggling, Wilbur shoved his finger at Techno and scowled. 

"You're not fucking funny Techno. You've been the most miserable part of my life here and you don't ever do shit. I don't need a snitch telling mummy and daddy that," His voice heightened into the falsetto of a young girl's.

'Oh! Mother dearest! Wilbur's being a piece of shit mistake again, I wonder when he'll leave for fucking good?! He's even more of a waste of space then I am!'"

He could feel his face flush an angry red and Will knew that, with his towering height, made for an ugly picture. He knew that Techno was quivering and frantically backing away from him towards the door of the bathroom.

He didn't care. God, he was so bloody angry. Who was he to treat Wilbur like a deranged child to be talked down to? What fucking right did he have?!

It was only when he heard the bathroom door slam in his face did he realize how close he had gotten to Techno. The doorknob clicked faintly as it locked closed and he could hear his brother clanging around in there.

Wilbur started at the door for a moment, only listening to the soft pattering behind it. 

Techno didn't return to their room that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, my hand slipped! :) I hope the first chapter didn't jebait you too bad lmao. 
> 
> God, Will is so hard to write for. Between him and Tommy, I can't tell who's worse djsjshjsjshsh
> 
> It doesn't help that this chapter is both longer and more emotion heavy then the first, I hope it turned out alright lmao. 
> 
> And, brief reminder, that Will at this point is like, 15 and emotionally constipated, so cut him some slack, yeah? Practically every adult he's talked to has either left him and treated him like a toddler, so he's touchy, to say the least. (He does get better with time though, so don't fret.)


	3. touching the heartless words and loud voices

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me, walking in 3 months later: Hey kids! I bought milk :D
> 
> W- When did we reach 4k hits? HUH??? I haven’t updated in eons how are y’all getting here LMAO tell me the deets
> 
> I must ask please, p l e a s e, P L E A SE, if you have suggestions or prompts for this au feel m o r e then free to slap them in the comments, I’m getting desperate.
> 
> And before you go on, say thank you to the song [Racing into the Night] by YOASOBI, which is almost purely responsible for this chapter’s existence as I listened to it for 5 hours, on repeat, with no breaks. WAP ladies and gentlemen, Worship And Prayer. 
> 
> Happy reading lovelies!

TW // Implied / Referenced Childhood Abuse and Trauma, Identity Issues / Crisis, It / Its Pronouns Used 

Under the sink, everything was okay. They were too tall to get it there. The pipes dug into its back and bottles of cleaner made the cabinet smell sharply of a chemically lemon scent that made Techno feel sick.

But it was fine, if it stayed quiet and shut its mouth, they would forget it was there in time. Just stay quiet. The scent of lemon poison wouldn’t mean anything in the long run. The cabinet was cracked open just a sliver, letting in a thin trail of moonlight only just bright enough for its eyes to watch the door’s lock for any signs of attempted entry.

The only sound in the frigid bathroom was the ticking of the clock hung over the door. The time read 2:43. Each tick seemed ages apart, slowly counting the seconds. Its breath was ghostly quiet, shallow and just barely able to keep its lungs going. That was good enough.

When it heard the knock, all breathing ceased entirely. 

A gentle voice came from the hall, as loud as a whisper. "Techno? Are you in there?" Philza.

Techno didn't know how it felt about him. The boy was the surrogate matriarch of the household and kept them all out of trouble, far from the eyes of the fosters that breathed lies down their necks, but didn’t even bother to stick around for the reaping.

It could not blame them though. Adults were all blind to the world.

Phil was not blind though. He only spoke of promises, all fulfilled, of joy, all deserved. His words were genuine, every single syllable. He was as happy as Tommy was here, accustomed to the loudness of life, the clatter of cars, the touches of warmth. 

But he had never felt the glare of sunlight on his back, or crusted blood and soil caked upon his skin and under his nails. His skin was plush and fair, with gentle locks of sunny blonde. Phil looked at home in the Californian sun with a brunette father and sibling and blonde mother and baby brother. It did not belong amongst them, an imposter in their midst with its bubblegum pink hair and tanned, sunburnt skin.

But, Techno could only wonder if Phil ever wanted to hide under sinks and desks next to the lemon scented cleaners and holding boxes of pink dye, away from the scent of ash and rays of light. Maybe he had. 

It wondered if there was a reason if when next to Mary and Liam or even Tommy, Philza’s cloudy jade eyes looked a millennium older than they had any right to. It wonders if there was a reason that whenever their fosters could cook up a breakfast of savoury eggs and ham, Phil took a half hour longer to leave his room. 

“Can I come in, Tech?”

He thought maybe Phil thrived in the voided dark of the wild too.

“Yeah.”

The door opened and closed with a gentle click and Techno peered through his little sliver of light at Phil. He was dressed in stripey green and white pajamas, looking as if a lost boy from “Peter Pan” had hopped straight out of the pages into their house. He did indeed look a bit lost, but from what Techno had seen, it was not a new revelation. 

He couldn’t see Phil, sat directly opposite the sink and hidden by the wooden door of the tiny cabinet that Techno still held shut. Only a peek of his striped knee could be seen, illuminated by the moon. Now, there were two people in the bathroom breathing, one still deadly quiet, another loud enough to fill the silence. 

Phil talked without prompting. “Why aren’t you asleep?” He didn’t sound scolding, only curious.

“I could ask the same of you.”

His brother laughed gently, but it was still a comforting sound. Philza’s laugh sounded so different from Wilbur’s and he couldn’t be more relieved. “I couldn’t sleep, is all. I dreamt the clouds were falling and I couldn’t fly. I couldn’t fly, and they got me too…” 

Techno didn’t ask. He was certainly curious but not enough to risk it. “I got into a fight with Wilbur.” he mumbled, “I thought I was back Home.” 

He always thought it strange he called that town, Home. When his hair was brown, not just at the roots, and his face was pale, unblemished by the sun’s kisses. It wasn’t him he saw when he reminisced of Home.

Phil didn’t ask either. “It seems we’re both a bit maladjusted, doesn’t it?”

Philza is not blind, neither is he a liar. It appears Techno was the blind one.

“Seems so.” 

\-----------------

Techno spent the next month holed up in Phil’s room. It was not because he was avoiding anyone, of course not, it was just that Phil was a staple in his life now, an anchor holding him steady. And if Wilbur just so happened to side-step the bedroom to avoid a certain gremlin child, well Techno supposed he might benefit from it too.

Whether or not the room’s owners were present, Techno was nevertheless huddled in the corner of the room, back facing dresser's side, playing Minecraft: Hypixel for an admittedly unhealthy amount of time.

Where he slept… Well he didn’t sleep much to begin with, but now with his and Wilbur’s ongoing argument, he had to sleep on the living room couch, which by all means, was perfectly fine to him. The stiff leather cushions were vastly preferable to the hardened dirt he had grown used to resting on, so he had no reason to complain.

Unfortunately, Phil seemed to have a different opinion. “Techno! Mate, you can’t sleep on the couch for another week.” 

“Watch me, Phil. Sleep is for the weak.” He and Will clearly were not meant to be friends, he reasoned. He would deal with the scoliosis if that meant never passing the boy again. Techno had dug his grave and damned well meant to lie in it.

Wilbur didn’t get the memo, however. 

Techno was only venturing out his cave to snatch the Switch from its charging port situated right in front of the TV. That was on, playing an all too familiar compilation of videos.

Oh no.

He tried his damndest to slip past Will’s notice and just grab the device and run, but his foster brother was not an idiot.

“H-Hey, Techno? Can we talk?” A red flag already, it seemed. It was very, very late in the night. Nothing good could've come from this.

He briefly considered humouring Wilbur’s request before his brain finally caught up and stopped that plan right in its tracks, “I would really rather not, thanks for asking.”

That seemed to not be the right thing to say as Will grumbled in mild frustration before letting out a breath. “I was just… I want you to take the bedroom tonight. Save your back the pain just for today yeah?” A surprisingly genuine offer… But from Wilbur? Seemed unlikely.

“It’s just… I-I know we’re not on great terms right now, but I’d like to get to know you a bit better, yeah? I wanna try to be better with… Trying.” Well, how could he refuse now?

After a painfully awkward shuffle back and forth through the house, Will settled into the living room and he was situated in their bedroom. His side was left the exact same as he left it weeks ago, perfectly organized chaos with clothes piled into a neat nest in the corner and the scarlet sheets made just wrong as always. 

Walking to the door, Techno couldn’t help but think Wilbur looked a lot like himself back Home. He wondered if Phil saw it too.

The door closed with a gentle click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell I wrote this all in one go? Well I did, and now I am suffering. Techno really just,,, Did NOT want to have a good plot did he. I'm not the happiest with this chapter, but I'd rather update now than never lol. 
> 
> The way I write Techno revolves around his thoughts more then a character point, but because of how I formatted this fic, I just,,, Boxed myself into a hole :/ Completely my own doing tbh and I wish I didn't do that but y'know, I guess I'll just perish instead
> 
> And P L E A S E leave suggestions and comments, they feed me so much joy and inspiration! (It was actually a comment from FallingApplesHurt that made me upload chapter 2 when I did hehe 💙
> 
> Hopefully, I'll see you guys soon!

**Author's Note:**

> Updates are gonna be a tad sparse with school starting up in a matter of days, but in the mean time, please feel free to bully my writing in the comments, peer pressure drives me to make content :,)


End file.
